I was praying this morning, God,
for all the people in Mozambique
and Malawi and Zimbabwe,
in the midst of the terrible losses
from cyclone Idai —
the deaths and injury and destruction,
the ongoing need for rescue
and I learned that the roads are broken.
I should have known —
the roads between towns
the bridges smashed, ports unusable.
Also those other paths —
electricity, telephone, Internet,
are gone as well.
And I went from that
to the jail and my meeting
for spiritual care,
and walked among others
with no access to common roads,
and realized that journey
is not a parable for Lent
your children on the inside.
And so holy Valley-uplifter,
I call you to attend
to all who suffer broken roads —
broken highways or heartways,
or sometimes minds that cannot
find a way out of whatever
dead end they are in,
and teach me to pay attention, too,
put my back against
every road block,
become an opener of the way home.